


A little rest for the wicked

by Nimue_Veleda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Djarin Needs a Hug, F/M, Family Feels, Feelings Realization, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Force Ghost Anakin Skywalker, Force Ghost Obi-Wan Kenobi, Force Ghost Yoda (Star Wars), Good Parent Din Djarin, Grogu | Baby Yoda Needs a Hug, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Non-Sexual Intimacy, Not Beta Read, Protective Din Djarin, Protective Luke Skywalker, The Force Ships It (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:48:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28600206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimue_Veleda/pseuds/Nimue_Veleda
Summary: "You don't have the comm frequency of the father of your only student?"Luke gave her a totally lost look, "I was distracted!"Leia raised both arms in the air, exasperated, "By what?""He has brown eyes, Leia!"And then Luke blushed. Furiously.Somewhere, far in the Force, Master Yoda was regretting every choice in his life that had led him to train Luke, Ben was sighing deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Anakin had raised both his thumbs up, into a gesture of approval.In wich Luke had a short-circuit on Moff Gideon's ship and now has to go to Nevarro and find a physically and emotionally exhausted dad.[Or that absolutely self-indulgent fix-it that the rest of the world alredy wrote.]
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 121
Kudos: 648





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have to say that english is not my first language, and that I am far better at understand it than, well, use it. Still I tried and I really, really, really hope there eare not terribile errors, or badly wrong sentences.  
> In that case, please knew that I am sorry.  
> But, in the mean time, be my guests and have a good read.

"Skywalker," Fett stabilized the course of the Slave 1 with a low, mirthless laugh; it was not an attempt at conversation, just a simple statement which he seemed to have uttered more to himself than to Cara, or Fennec.

So Cara didn't answer, limiting herself to just stare at Mando's armored body, badly lying on the hard metallic deck of the ship.

His shoulders were resting to the side of the wall, face once again securely coverd by the helmet. In his exhausted sleep, he had bent it in an awkward position.

Cara had looked away after the kid and Luke Skywalker had disappeared behind the lift doors, discovering, with a certain amount of disbelief, that she had not been the only one who had respected the man's privacy: Bo-Katan, Koska, Fennec, they all had turned their heads, had waited for Mando to move, retrieve his helmet and, incredibly, Bo-Katan had not immediately challenged him for possession over the Darksaber.

She had not been pleased to see him disappear on the Slave 1 with something she considered hers by right, but in that moment, after how hard Mando had fight, how much he had lost in a matter of mere _minutes_ , Bo-Katan had had the good decency not to rage.

Even though she had told them so with her chin held up high and a raging aura of superiority, as if she were doing them a favor - and Cara would have wanted to shoot her there and then and save her friend (uhm, who would have ever guessed) a future pain in his neck.

Cara had not shoot her, and now the hilt of the lightsaber hung from Mando's belt; an ominous reminder, in her opinion.

The adrenaline of the battle was leaving her too: her bones were aching, skin wet under the clothes, cold chills down her back; the weariness weighed down her shoukder like a boulder and was threatening to leave her asleep on the hard metal of the bridge, just like Mando, hadn't she found something to entertain herself with.

So she turned towards Fett with a curious look.

By how he had wispered 'Skywalker', between his teeth and with his jaw set, Cara suspected there were something between him and the Jedi.

"Do you know him?" she asked, Fett raised an eyebrow, slightly lowering his head towards her "Skywalker. In person, I mean."

Fennec turned to them, intrigued by the question, and Fett just shrugged a shoulder, "We tried to kill each other."  
Cara sighed, inspecting her blaster for damages only to have something to do, "Of course you did," she lifted her head and gazed anew at Mando.

The man was exhausted, maybe more then Cara could have ever comprehend, and when She speaked, her voice was soft, _fond_ , "He had no idea."

Fennec's lips curled in the slightest of smiles, Fett trew Cara a flat look, frowned, then he considered the implications of Cara's words and, in the end, asked, "He has no idea who _Skywalker_ is?" slightly taken aback.

Cara giggled, an exhausted sound that sounded far more cracked than she would have liked, "Not in the slightest."

She had told Mando about the Jedi, after the kid had been gone and it was clear that the man had no idea who Skywalker was.

Short, concise sentences: he was the one who destroyed the first Death Star, was on the second one when it had been blew up, he was the one who killed the Emperor - to which Mando had simply replied with: "Then he will know how to take care of my kid."

"Well, this is new," Fett almost looked amused, "Is he still asleep?"

Fennec looked at Mando over her shoulder, "Like a baby."

The bounty hunter nodded and checked the course on the holoprojector, lips curled in something not quite like a smile, but similar.

Cara let the conversation faded back into silence, and for once it did not seemed laden with ill-concealed dislikes, unspoken words, threatening glares. For the first time, it was only silence, an infinite, almost welcoming nothing.

*

Din was tired, _exhausted_.

He had not intended to fall asleep on Fett's ship, but then everything crashed back on him and his body just... shut down.

When he finally woke up they were back on Nevarro, Cara was gently shaking him, with her hand lightly wrapped around his arm and a fondness in her look he had only see her used with Grogu.

Somehow, it made him want to throw up.

And, honestly, it was _ridiculous_.

He _wanted_ this. He _wanted_ that Jedi to come. He _wanted_ him to teach Grogu. _He_.

So _why_ did he feel so lost?

_Get a hold on yourself_ , scolded him a voice that were dangerously similar to Bo-Katan's, _you are not a kid, you can live with the loss. Keep going._

He slipped down on one of Karga nice chairs: there was an elongated table in his livingroom, a beautiful, refined piece of forniture made of polished, dark wood, instead of the usual cold metal.

Din could see his reflection on its glossy surface, helmet still on, efficiently hiding his features; he looked the same, gruffy Mandalorian as always in that immage, covered in beskar, sharp, dangerous, lethal.

Under the mask he was nothing of the sort, he felt his skin wet under the armor, from sweat, and tears. His limbs were sore from the battle, his back ached badly, his eyes were swollen, darkness at the edge of his vision.

And he could still felt the touch of Grogu lite hands on his cheeks.

It was a dull pain, as if little cracks of energy were pinching his skin, constantly, without ever resting. He felt like something had irrimediately broken, as if he, himself, had cut trhough his bond with his kid and destroyed it.

And Din already missed Grogu's weigh in his arms, his big dark eyes full of wonder, his presence near him in every moment. _Gods_ , he missed _his kid_.

"If you -" Karga gestured and his hands reflected on the polished surface of the table, "I mean, we shoul talk --"

"There's nothing to talk about," Din snapped, it was not fair to Karga, he knew it, but he was tired, so, so tired, "The child is gone. The Jedi is gone. Neither of them will return."

Cara covered his wrist with a hand, squeezing just a Little, "You can't know that."

Fett trew her a mirthless smile, "That's the Jedi's way," he said, slightly lowering his head, "But for what it's worth, you probably made the right choice."

Din only nodded; he would have answered, but there was a lump forming at the base of his throat and he was not sure he would have been able to prevent his voice from shaking. So he just sighed, long, and low, and cracked like a glass shard.

"There's rooms upstairs," Karga said, he lifted a finger and pointed it at the ceiling, "You can rest here. There's also a refresher."

"I am fine," Din half-growled, his voice low, unsteady, he heated himself for that.

Karga lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed, "No offense, but you are not kriffing _fine_."

"Karga's right," added Cara, matter of factly, "You look exhausted."

Din lifted his visor, tilted it towards Cara, "You don't know how I look," he exlaimed and it sounded broken and a little petulant, "You can't see my face."

Fett - and Din vaguely asked himself why Fett was still there - laughed, low and mirthless, "She does not need to see your face to knew that you can barely stand upright, _vod_ ," then he added, in Mando'a, " _Gar shuk meh kyrayc_."

It was so long since Din last heard his own language that he slipped into it without even realising, " _Ni vaabir nayc linibar nuhoy_."

" _Gar vaabir_ ," Fett tilted his head, looking down at Din as if to challenge him to claim the opposite.

"Can we switch back to Basic, please?" said Karga, dragging Din's attention away from Fett and back at the room full of people interested in his wellbeing, for some reasons.

"Just... go to sleep, Mando," the man said, with a long sigh, "Actually, you _all_ should go to sleep."

At that Fennec raised an eyebrow, skeptical, and Karga did not leave her enough time to respond, "I won't have tired and irritated bounty hunters in my city. So either you all get yourself comfortable or you can get out of here."

Din sighed, feeling what had remained of his resolve scrumble on the floor, leaving him with tired limbs and eyes that were slowly slipping closed, "Fine," he exhaled, and did not even noticed the thumbs up Cara exchange with Karga.

Greef showed them their room before turning on his heels and striding back on his office, because " _Someone_ had to prevent the city from collapsing."

His room was bigger then what he had expected, with white, new walls, a nice bed, a beautiful but empty bookshelf: there wasn't much inside, but It was clean, clearly new, nicer then what he had had on the Razor Crest.

The sunlight entered from a large window, illuminating the wall with an almost-bliding white light.

Had he not been exhausted he would had looked at that large window with much more wariness: he was used to small cabins with only one way in and out, spaces that gave less opportunity to enter and were easier to defend.

Instead, he just tought that, yeah, it was a nice room.

He peeled off of his armor one piece at a time, slowly, with weary, automatic gesture dictated by habit. When his helmet fell on the mattress, with a soft ' _thud_ ', he stretched his neck, feeling his sore bones creaking under the skin.

The bed was comfortable, it smelled of clean sheets and... sunlight, somehow. It was ridiculous and Din was not enough awake for care. He just thanked Greef's nice taste for forniture, before weariness reclaimed its hold on him.

When he woke up, the dying sun was bathing everything in liquid red, he still felt tired, as if he had not just spent a day resting, and Grogu's little, warm hands were holding his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'vod', it's Mando'a for 'brother/sister', or even 'comrade', 'mate'.  
> 'Gar shuk meh kyrayc', it literaly means 'You are no use dead' but it's usually said to encourage someone to take a rest, and it's rarely used literaly.  
> 'Ni vaabir nayc linibar nuhoy', 'I don't need sleep'.  
> 'Gar vaabir', 'you do'
> 
> Again, I am not fluent in Mando'a, so I used the help of the internet, hopefully I have not write something terribly incorret.


	2. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even tell how much I am glad this fiction had received so much attention. You all who read, leave comment, kudos, are a blessing. Really know how to make a girl proud of her work.  
> So, a part from the fact that I wrote Nevarro wrong up until yesterday, here is the second chapter, wich is longer and is just me indulging on scenes I will never see in canon - and I was this close to add Anakin in this shit show, cheering on Boba over Han.  
> I restrained myself. Barely.  
> Like last time, please, enjoy this reading.

Luke landed near the circular section of the Falcon, not at all surprised at the sight of its large, elongated figure rested placidly on that long unused landing deck.

Grogu lowered his ears, flat against his little head, and looked warily up at Luke: it was an expression that did not suit a child but, on Grogu's childlike face, was just the umpteenth reminder of how much he had endured. Luke smiled at him, opening himself into the Force to try and reassure his new, young apprentice.

The crew of the Falcon wasn't an enemy, Luke trusted every single one of them with his own life - Grogu tilted his head a little and observed as the deck of the Falcon slowly slipped open - _you are save, nothing will ever harm you here._ Even if, judging by Leia's unamused expression, he could not guarantee the same for himself.

His sister welcomed him with her lips set into a thin line, arms crossed on her chest, eyes narrowed in a hard glare that, Luke was shure, could have killer him on the spot, if only she had wanted, " _Where_ were you?"

Luke suppressed the urge to take a step back: in all her petite stature, Leia was terrifying, with her chin held high, long hair tied in a tight bun, her refined clothes that somehow gave the impression she was wearing an armor, instead of fine fabrics of light colors.

"I left rather quickly, didn't I?" he exclaimed, with a small, embarassed laugh.

Leia narrowed her gaze, "That is an understatement," and behind her, Han seemed to be trying, with all his might, to contain an amused laugh, failing miserably at the same time.

Chewie gave, to some extent, the same impression of Leia's exasperated concern and Han's amusement - Grogu tilted his head on a shoulder, lifted a thin, curved claw and pointed it at the towering figure of Chewbacca, cooing with glee, completely fascinated by the general presence of the Wookiee.

Lowering her gaze, Leia noticed Grogu for the first time and lifted a delicate eyebrow into a silent question.  
Luke hugged the child to his chest, raising his arm a little so that Leia, Han and Chewbe could get a better look at the youngling in his arms, "Grogu, these are my sister Leia, her husband Han and my sister's husband's husband Chewie."

Han immediately stopped giggling, "Hey --" he tried to interject, and Leia stopped him with a dry glare, only to then turn all her attetion at the child and smile, along with Luke and Chewie, at Grogu's little gleeful wave of greeting.

"Guys this is Grogu. A couple of days ago I felt his presence in the Force," Luke gave them a small apologetic smile, "He was in danger, looking for help, it's for him that I left so abruptly and without warning you... He wasn't in a good position."

Leia sighed, closing her eyes as of to pray a higher entity to garant her enough patience to get through the day without strangling her brother, "I understand," she said, in the end, while Han walked past her to bend to his knees, just low enough to be at eyes level with Grogu, "But you could have at least sent a message _after_ the rescue."

She was right, and Luke was saved from having to answer by Han's curious comment, "I have never seen someone like this little one."

Luke was silent for a moment, then exclaimed, "I did," at Han's curious look he continued, voice low and a lump set at the base of his throat, that made his voice sound just a little bit unsteady, "He was my old Master, the one that teach me the Ways of the Force arfet Ben."

Han nodded; he was still bent on his knees to look Grogu in the eyes, but didn't seem interested in getting any closer, "And what are you suppose to do with him?"

"Train him."

Leia frowned and looked at Luke, then down at Grogu, then at Luke again, "What king of danger?"

He lifted an eyebrow and his sister gestured with one hand, in Grogu's general direction, "You said he was in danger. What kind of danger?"

Luke sighed, mentally preparing himself for the umpteenth scolding from his sister, "He was held prisoner in an Imperial ship," Leia parted her lips, at the same time giving him a hard look that was a mixture of worry and exasperation, " _But_ ," he added, without giving her the time to argue with reasonings that Luke knew would have been absolutely logical and would have made him feel terribly guilty, "I didn't have to do much, when I arrived his father had alredy captured the ship and, uhm, _disarmed_ the crew."

At the mention of his father, Grogu raised his huge dark eyes to Luke, uttering a series of exited and proud childish sounds. Luke smiled, allowing Grogu to show him the image of the fight between his father and Moff Gideon. It was a slightly shaked vision, blurred at the edges and bleared, but even like this Luke could understand why Grogu beamed with admiration for the man.

Luke himself had had some sort of short-circuit when he had saw the other man handsome face - his dark eyes, sharp features, the skin wet with sweat, his hair tangled in a tousled mass, glued to his temples - but that did not need to be known.

"Little greeny has a father?" Han asked, efficiently dragging Luke away from the memory of broad shoukders and deep brown eyes.

Luke felt the heat rising up his neck, his cheeks, his ears, but smiled to Grogu nonetheless, "Yes, even if not by blood. From what Grogu told me, Din," that was his name, Grogu whispered it to Luke between the vision of a beskar armor and the one of a giant fanged mouth closing around his crib, "Is been taking care of him for a while now. They are a, ah, ' _clan of two_ '?"

Grogu nodded, with conviction, and a note of pride broke against Luke through their newly formed bond in the Force.

Leia smiled at the child in Luke's arms, reaching with a hand and allowing Grogu to play with her fingers, "He's not with you through."

Luke shook his head, eyeing his X-Wing with some resentment: had he known of Din's presence, he would have designed his rescue plan including a ship suitable for carrying more people, "There wasn't enough space, I was thinking of giving Grogu a couple of days to settle down in the Temple before comunicating our coordinates -- Oh."

His eyes widened and wandered, somewhere far in front of him.

 _Oh_.

" _Oh kriff_."

Han sighed in mock shock and raised a hand to cover his lips, "Leia, the Jedi Master cursed!" he announced, his voice high, incredibly bewildered, "And in front of a baby!"

Leia slapped him on the shoulder, Chewie seemed about to burst out laughing but, unlike Han, he was actually behaving; Luke ignored them both, in favor to cast on Leia a panicked look, "I don't nave his comm frequency."

Leia blinked, slowly, "What do you mean you don't have his comm frequency?"

Abandoning all decency, Han burst out laughing, head trowed back into a high and so, so, amused laugh. Leia smacked him a second time, a little harder, before turning her attention back on Luke, "You don't have the comm frequency of the father of your only student?"

Luke gave her a totally _lost_ look, "I was distracted!"

Leia raised both arms in the air, exasperated, "By what?"

"He has brown eyes, Leia!"

And then Luke blushed. Furiously.

Somewhere, far in the Force, Master Yoda was regretting every choice in his life that had led him to train Luke, Ben was sighing deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Anakin had raised both his thumbs up, into a gesture of approval.

In front of Luke, on the other hand, Leia had raised both her eyebrows, while Han had stretched his lips into a slightly crooked smile and was now leaning forward with a sort of conspiratorial attitude, like he and Luke were about sharing secrets. Grogu stirred in his arms, probably aware that the subject of their currently conversation was his father.

Chewie standed tall behind Han and Leia, something similar to an amused grin partially covered by his thick fur.

Han laughed in a low, teasing tone "Brown eyes, uh?"

"Han," Leia exclaimed, in a hard call that did not allowed for replies, "What will you do, then?"

Luke sighed, feeling particularly like an idiot, because what kind of Jedi would have leave without giving a father the chance to contact again his son?

 _Kriff, he will think I'm an incompetent_.

"I can try to sense him through the Force," he said, pensive, looking at Grogu, "It may will take a while but with your help, Grogu, we can find Din."

Grogu happly cooed, an agreement that Luke undestanded without having to enter his bond with him.

Din, Luke discovered after just a few minutes of meditation, wasn't someone that went unnoticed: perhaps it was Grogu's help, so used to sense his father's signature and the bond that he was now sharing with Luke, but Din was a presence _so_ clearly visibile in the Force - a figure made of sharp edges and a distinct metallic clang.

Luke felt him walk, exhausted, on the dry soil of a planet that Grogu recognised after a few moments - and there was a disarming sense of loss that was rolling in waves from the Mandalorian, a deep pit of weariness, and loneliness, and guilt, and pain, _so, so much pain_.

Grogu stirred in his arms, opening himself in the Force as if to reach Din on the planet that Luke recognized too: _Nevarro_ , one of the planets most recently freed from what had remained of the Imperial influence.

Luke eyes flyed open, and Han lifted an eyebrow at him, "Found him already?"

Grogu cried in distress and looked up at Luke with his huge, dark eyes wide open, because his father was alone and he was _suffering_.

"He is on Nevarro," Luke answered, hugging Grogu in his arms to prevent him from jumping to the ground and, probably, reacing back on the X-Wing, "He's not... fine, emotionally."

Leia looked at him with a flat, mirthless expression, "Of course not, he probably thinks he will never see his son again," then she turned her back at Luke and confidently walked back onto the Falcon's deck, "Let's go, Nevarro isn't near."

Han trew her a look at the base of her nape, "You don't want me to go all the way up to Nevarro, do you?"

Leia didn't answer, and Luke wasn't surprised when he found R2 already aboard of the Falcon, waiting near the holographic map, a bearing that was a mixture of pure exasperation and the belief that Luke was a full-fledged Jedi idiot. The droid chirped, rocketing from arm to arm in what seemed like an incredulous, long-suffered statement on Luke's social awkwardness - and, honestly, Luke couldn't even counter.

*

Nevarro was a planet that still had a sharp look, with broken and a little croocked edges, but in which Luke could see the New Republic's influence: it was down at the edges of the streets, in the open stalls under the clear sky, in the low-rise buildings still under renovation. It was not a beautful planet, but it left Luke with a pleasant feeling of tranquility, as if, just for a couple of hours, he could had lowered his guard.

Din's presence was stronger there, even if the heavy sense of loss Luke had first perceived, had subsided into a feeling of dull weariness.

Din was near, more real, more concrete, not a mere, distant echo and Grogu seemed to want to jump out of his own skin and run to his father as a spirit one with the Force.

Luke had thought Din would have found rest into a lonely room, away from the gaze of other people, in the corners of the suburbs. He found himself staring at the door of a building at the buisy city center, instead, then at the face of one of Din's comanions back on Moff Gideon's ship, and then at a more refined, newer room than what he had immagined.

From what Grogu showed him, Din had seemed like a lonely man, used to small, old spaces, not pleased by large crowds of people. But here Luke was, in front of Din's - friend?, _girl_ friend?

Something twisted at the pit of Luke's stomach, an itchy sensation that all the rest of him elected to ignore.

The woman lifted an eyebrow, and when Grogu cooed gleefully her features opened into a warm, fond smile, "Hey there, kid," she greeted, her dark eyes softened by Grogu's mere presence, but when she lifted her gaze, to look at Luke, she was again every inch of the soldier she had been on Gideon's ship, "Something happend? Why are you here?"

Han gave her a charming smile, leaning on Luke with a shoulder and dragging the woman attention for the first time on Leia and himself. Her eyes lit up with recognition, and she lighly bowed her head towards Leia.

"The Jedi Master forgot to give the kid's father the coordinates to find him," said Han, and Luke ears were a furious crimson, by now.

And seriously, Han was too much amused by the situation and Luke asked himself why he still considered him a friend.

The woman lowered her gaze on Grogu, then back up on Luke, a vaguely incredulous expression on her features; in the end she only gave a half-mocking laugh that she tried in vain to disguise into a cough.

"Come," she only said, leaving them free to enter the house, lips still curled into an amused smile, "I'm Cara Dune, town's Marshall," she lifted her gaze on Leia, "And... I, too, am from Alderaan."

Leia's eyes lit up, as always happened when she was able to meet another survivor of her planet, like Cara, she lightly bowed her head, a smile open in her features, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dune."

Cara gestured with a hand, "Just Cara is fine," she said with a tone that sounded definitive.

She strided the room with sure steps, but before she crossed the threshold of a second room, Cara stopped and trew them a - curiously enough - worried look over her shoulder, "I had to tell you though, Boba Fett is here," she announced, her expression more soft than before, as if she knew their history with Boba Fett.

And probably she did.

Luke freezed on the spot, observing the area where Cara had disappeared, inside the room where there was _Boba_ _Fett_.

Luke heard mulple voices coming from the other room, he thought he heard his name too, but his body was freezed into a defensive stance and he hugged Grogu a little higher against his chest, as the tips of his finghers brushed the hilt of his lightsaber.

Han and Leia were frozen too, jaws set, theets clenched, only Grogu stirred in Luke's arms, eager to seach for his father, and Luke would have let him, had it not been for _Boba fucking Fett_.

Then dark hairs poked from the other room: another of the women that were with Din on Gideon's ship. She looked at them with a sort of sardonic expression, as if she would have burts out laughing had the situation been _just a ittle bit_ funnier; she curled her lips into a wry smile, though, "Is the great New Republic afraid of bounty hunters?"

That seemed to tear Han out of his own amazement and convince him to stride right into Boba Fett's arms, under the horripilate gaze of Luke and Leia.

Luke entered the room just as Cara darted her eyes from Han to Fett - and It was him, the real him, alive -, muscles ready to jump and fight, "Will this be a problem?"

Luke witnessed Fett raise an eyebrow and observe Han with a look of open hostility, but otherwise he just shrugged a shoulder and lifted to his lips a glass full of a dark, nameless liquor, "Not from me."

Cara nodded, once, she ignored the surprise on Luke and Leia's faces, lifting instead her dark eyes on Han, "General Solo?"

Han kept his eyes on Fett even when he answered to Cara's question, "Why should it be?" with a certain amount of sarcasm.

The other woman took place behind Fett, "Want me to shoot him?"

The last man, the older among them, with a well-groomed beard, rolled his eyes in exasperation, "No one will shoot to no one. Not in my city," he exlaimed, into an authoritative and a little tired tone, as if he had been dealing with such situations all his life, "And then Mando is sleeping. Stars only know if he needs sleep."

Fett hummed in agreement, a sound that left Luke with a profound sensation of bewilderment.

Grogu cooed, high and shrill, lifting both his arms and the man features opened up into a fond smile, exacly like what had happened with Cara. Even Fett and what appeared to be his boduguard seemed to relax, at the sight of the youngling in Luke's arms.

"My grankid," the man exlaimed, and oh, Luke had not understand he was Din's father.

They did not look alike, and the man did not look like a Mandalorian at all, but Luke knew too little about their culture to presume all Mandalorians wore continuously their armor - and he did not knew enough about Din's past to presume the man was not, infact, his father.

Then Cara lifted an eyebrow into a skeptical look, "Grankid? Since when?"

Not Din's father, then.

The man gestured with a hand and then lifted both his arms into a silent question wich Grogu did not seem adverse, "I deserve the title," he said, while Luke, still taken aback, and still in silence, let him take the child in his arms.

"Uhm," he exlaimed, while Grogu uttered a series of delightful childish noises, gleeful by the attentions of his - apparently self-proclaimed - grandfather, "I get that Din is sleeping?"

The man lifted an eyebrow, "Din?" he asked, before looking up to Cara, "He calls himself Din now?"

The woman shrugged, shaking her head "Not that I know," and Luke wondered if he had just broken a Mandalorian tradition, "But it's possible. He take off the helmet with the kid now, so -"

The elder man looked down at Grogu, a soft look on his features hardened by the time, "He really is fond you, isn't he?"

Grogu nodded happily, in total agreement, then Cara lifted her gaze, attracting Luke's attention, "Mando is upstairs, probably still sleeping, I can take the kid to him and see if he woke up."

Luke smiled to her, "I can do it, I mean to speak with him in any case," he proposed, with a polite smile, just to see Cara hesitate.

"The thing is he... He don't take the helmet off in front of others," she said, her eyes wandered from Grogu, to Luke, to the bottom of the stais which led to an upper floor, "Exept the kid now, apparently, so --"

The memory of Din's face was still burning in Luke's memory: the man had removed the helmet in front of him, on Gideon's ship, and apparently Luke had not understood the exceptionality of the situation.

Cara let her words fade info the silence, but Luke sensed her determination, her iron-will of not risking someone seeing Din's face when he could not prevent it: it was like a wall that stood between Luke and the upper floor of the bulding.

So Luke just nodded, the Force twirling peacefully around him, dictating him, and Grogu, and Leia, and Han were safe there, even from Boba Fett. And he knew all too well that need to protect the people dear to him, "Of course, I'll talk with him later, for now, Grogu is eager to see him."

Grogu's self-proclaimed grandad lowered his gaze on the kid still in his arms, "Grogu? Is this your name?" Grogu's ears twitched at the sound of his name and he cooed with glee, the man laugh, "It suits you."

Cara took the kid in her arms, hugging him to her chest, "Lets go find Mando," she exclaimed, voice low, incredibly gentle, "Try not to wake him if he is still asleep," she added, a moment before desappearing beyond the first flight of stairs.

The man seemed to take in the tense air that covered the room like a heavy cloak, and decided to break it, "Well, it's an honor to meet you," he announced and Fett raised an eyebrow, skeptical, "I'm Greef Karga, the town's Magistrate," he raised both hands, as if to show all of the room, and, at the same time, narrowed his eyes at Fett into a glare that Luke was fairly sure meant 'behave', "Be welcome. You already knew Boba Fett, she is Fennec Shand."

The woman behind Fett, Fennec, crossed her arms, without taking her eyes away from Han and his slow, deliberate sitting in front of Fett, at the beautiful, elongated table made of dark wood.

Leia gave Luke a slightly alarmed look, before taking a seat next to her husband and squeezing a hand around his elbow.

"So, _Boba_ ," Han said, attracting on himself all of the attention, Greef Karga darted his gaze from Fett to Han but but more than alarmed, he just seemed resigned, "How did you end up here?"

Fett leanend on the polished surface of the tablet, the glass now empty still tight between his fingers, face devoid of emotion except but a placid indifference, "Kriff off, Solo."

"They helped save the child," Karga interjected, he seemed torn between rolling his eyes to the ceiling or trewing Fett another dry glare. The latter won. "Wouldn't even make to Gideon's ship without them," he looked at Luke, as if he was trying to convince him, specifically, "Could we all try and get our hands off the blasters? Or lightsaber."

Luke nodded, absently, without really paying attention: he considered Fett on the light of that new revelation, and still, he could not imagine for what reasons Boba Fett would have helped a father rescured his child. It did not seemed an action that would have bring him a profit.

"Why?" he asked, before he could think better of it, and Fett raised both his eyebrows.

"Because we had a deal," dark eyes sinked in Luke's blue gaze, there was more, behind those words, a deeper and more personal motive that carved a furrow in Fett's bones, but whatever it was, the hunter did not seem willing to reveal it.

It was in that moment, Luke heard heawy footsteps on the stairs.

"He's still sleeping," Cara exlaimed, stepping down down the last steps with a single jump, "Is this what you Mandos do, you sleep to heal?

Fett shrugged a shoulder, curling his lips info a smile that were too forced to be considered friendly, with too many teeth and lips too tight, "It's a common need after meeting these here," he commented, indicating Luke with a gesture of his chin.

Luke folded his hands on the table, the smile he gave to Fett was kinder, more cordial, but equally unfriendly, "We were only defending ouselves."

Fett looked Luke over with a curious mix of exasperation and irritation, "And for me, you were only a job," his eyes narrowed and he sinked his gaze in Han's, "I don't like you. You don't like me. But the kid give his _ad'ika_ to you. I am not going to risk it and harm the child."

Fett lifted the bottle of dark liquor near him and refilled his glass, "So you can stop looking at me like I'm going to shoot you."

Han let out a low, incredulous, laugh, a sound that seemed like a chocked cought, "So wait, are you implying you won't try to kill us because you... what? _Actually like_ greeny's old man?"

Leia lips curled into a wry smile, "Han, please, stop poking the kriffing krayt dragon," she half-growled, with a dry look to which Han immediately lifted both his hands, in the universal gesture of surrender.

"I am just try to understand," Han said, with a deliberate smile in Fett direction, "C'mon, who would have though - whatever the kriff this is."

Cara leaned towards Fennec, as if to whisper her a secret, but when she speaked her voice was high, and clear, and full of mirth, "Admit it, you're happy you stayed."

Fennec eyebrows raised on her forehead, " _Happy_ is not the word I would use," her eyes narrowed on Han and Fett's intense glare contest, "But it _is_ funny."

Luke and Leia exchange a worried glace: the air cracked with palpabile tension, as if living elextricity were running through them, a heawy, hard blanket that covered the room and made the air difficult to breath - and still, the Force was calm, it did not scream of danger, it was placid, serene.

Luke noticed Fennec hand near her blaster, Cara's tense shoulder, Karga's eyes that were skipping from Han, to Fennec's blaster.

Leia was half-shielding Han's body from Fett intense glare; Han seemed a minutes away from jumping on the table and trew his hands around the hunter's throat.

Then Luke heard him and his eyes snapped _up_.

Din was standing at the bottom of the stairs, face covered by the helmet. He was wearing half of his armor, the chestplate, the combat booth, only one of his shoulder strap, and he was confused, and terrified. His hands clinged on Grogu as if he was afraid of loosing him yet another time, and Luke's heart sinked deep in his chest.

Then Din's visor tilted towards Luke and _fury_ crashed on the Jedy in waves.

" _What the fuck are you doing here_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'ad'ika', Mando'a for 'son', 'daughter', 'little one'
> 
> Next chapter, Din and Luke will actually interract. I swear.


	3. Chapters three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My God, this chapter.  
> It's the one I'm more anxious to post, by now. Just bear with me through this.  
> I suppose I should do a warning, yeah, all right: this chapter contains a little, little, little attack of panic. Nothing too serious, it don't last even half a page, still there is one and I tried to describe it at the best of my ability - which, I admit, are not that good but coul had been worst.  
> So, I wandered between poor Din having a seizure and Luke and Han being... Luke and Han half a page after.  
> As always, I hope you all have a good read.

He woke up at sunset, red light bathed his surrounding, so intense he could see it even through his closed eyes.

For few, blissful moments, his mind just wandered into a red sea of nothing, at peace. He was no one, a faceless figures devoided of memories, of feelings.

Just for a couple of seconds.

Then his life rushed back on him and he revived it all: his son taken away by black, lethal droids, his little wrists cuffed, his tiny hands that reached for him in that metallic cell.

Din felt it all over again - fear, loss, despair, anger. And he had been so angry, still was. An ugly, screeching sensation at the pit of his stomach that anchored him there, on that bed, unable to breath because his son had been taken and _he_ _did_ _not_ _prevent_ _it_. 

He kept his eyes closed, focused on his breath.

 _In_ and then _out_ : it did not matter if his throath was burning, it did not matter if he could not even properly stand, he just. Needed. To breath.

Then someting touched his cheeks and Din's eyes flyed open.

They wandered, unfocused, on the reddened ceiling of the room; for some moments he was only able to see the blurred edges of his surroundings - and here it was, a green outline, sitting in his rapidly raising chest, and sure enough Din could feel _Grogu's_ warm hands on his skin.

And oh, if _that_ was not a masochistic behavior.

"I miss you," he whispered, and that livid, _so much livid_ dream of his son curled up on his chest, "You will never know how much I'll miss you."

The dream reached his skin again, as Din's gaze adjusted to the dying sun; he could see better then, that immage of his son curled on his chest with its big, dark and terribly sad eyes.

It gurgled, tracing his chin with little fingers.

Din let his eyes slipping shut again: even if his exhausted mind could not bear the vision of his kid, his breath was more controlled now, enough to let him excape the feeling of suffocating.

He sensed the dream moving, for some reasons it weighed on his chest, then the dream's claws scratched his skin: it did not hurt, it did not even itch, but it was a sensation so real Din's eyes snapped open, a thought - no, worst, a _hope_ \- forming in the back of his mind.

He reached for the dream, and his hand did not trepass it; instead, his fingers brushed Grogu's green skin, bare, for the first time, and it was warm and not soft, in fact, it was a little wrinkled - but it was real under his touch, still real when he pinched his own arm and still real when Grogu reached form him again and Din let him take a hold on his fingers.

He sat up straight, hugging his kid to his chest, and something in his mind screamed that it was _not_ a dream: he did not have the immagination to come up with so vivid sensations. He had not even ever thought of Grogu's skin, not really, the possibility of it been wrinkled did not even crossed him mind up untill now.

His son - that was there, right in front of his eyes - smiled up at him.

Din's breath quickened again, caughed up in his throat, and Grogu must had sense that something was not right because he reached for his chest again, curled up against him and cooed in distress, an high, pinched sound that made Din felt sick.

He was scaring his kid. He was the reason of that sickened sound, of his ears flat on his head. And yet, his mind just focused on the fact that Grogu was here and the Jedi - _was_ _not_.

What was his name? Something Sky-something.

Gods, he could not even remember the name of his son's glorified teacher.

"Where's the Jedi?" his voice wavered.

Grogu lifted his ears, traching his chin with clawded hands.

Din's lips curled, in a smile that almost _hurted_ , "Yes, it's my face," he whispered, allowed himself to get comfort - just a little bit - from Grogu's touch, "The Jedi, _ad'ika_ ," he repeated, calmer even if it was just a facade, "Where is him?"

His son tilted his head, hands still on his skin, then he pointed to the floor with a high, for some reason happy, coos.

He made fast work with his armor did not even bother to put it on properly because Mayfeld was right: he felt disperate and did not care if part of him was not covered by the beskar.

 _Grogu_ was important, and Grogu was supposed to be somewhere else, safer, not in Din's arms.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his breath was ragged as if he had just run for miles, his helmet heavy like never before, his bare hands clinged on Grogu's little form - and there they was. Sitting at Karga's table. Like a kriffing book club.

His visor tilted, he sinked his eyes on the Jedi's figures, and it was as if a gate broke and all of his anger was finally free to fill him. (Din was not angry at the Jedi, not really. But with himself oh, with himself he was _furious_ ).

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

He did not shouted, it was more similar to a ragged growl, low in his throat, full against his clenched teeth, high enough to break whatever was going on and drag all of the attention on Din's pathetic form.

The Jedi _smiled_.

He had the actual courage to smile.

In an instant he raised both his hands, the smile dying on his lips, Din did not let him time to speak, "You said you'd have train him," another growl, another ragged breath.

This man did not have the _right_ to give him hope, show him the extensions of Grogu's powers, what he could be able to do if only trained and then show up and give him back his son.

Din could not do it.

Not again.

He could not see his son rejected _again_ , because of the bond he sheared with Din.

He could not start yet another search, put Grogu in danger all over again, lose him anew to some dark, deadly droid that he was not strong enough to stop. Din was just a human, not a Jedi - he could not teach to Grogu, not like this man, he could not protect him like the Jedi could.

What if Grogu got kidnapped again? What if this time Din would not be fast enough? What if Grogu die --

Din's breath broke, he tries take air in and nothing come.

He tries again, and again, and again and he just _could not breath_.

Then his son touched his cheeks, little warm and wrinkled finghers unders his helmet, his head tucked under Din's chin, and the Jedi touched his shoulder, lightly, "Breath, Din," the man said, voice so, so soft, blue eyes that did not held an ounce of judgment, and Din wondered why.

"Listen to my voice and _breath_."

Din closed his eyes, and let the air flow back into his burning lungs.

*  
Luke had never experienced something quite like Din.

He had seen others strong presences in the Force, bright beacon of light in that never ending flow that trepassed all of the galaxy. But Din was something else.

He _burned_ , like a living, consuming fire, so wild and intense that emotions crushed on Luke and left him momentary without breath. _Din's_ emotions, his rage, his sadness and the thought that Luke would have abandoned Grogu.

Luke felt it distinctly: the conviction that because of Din, Grogu would have lost his best chance at surviving - and that conviction _terrified_ him.

"What's happening?" asked Cara, when Din bended on his knees and took a series of short, ragged breath.

Fett cursed, low in his throat, "Panic attack."

Luke moved before he could think better of it, closed the distance that separated him and Din and lightly touched his shoulder.

Grogu was curled under his father chin, eyes closed, fingers under his helmet, and the Force calmed around Din, it still swirled, hard, but somehow it was mitigate, appease, so Luke talked and hoped Din could hear him, "Listen to my voice and breath, Din."

Din inhaled, then exhaled, one, two, three times, he lifted his visor and Luke could almost see his distorted reflex on the polished metal, "Why --?"

Luke tried to smile; this time Din did not respond with a wave of fury, and Luke squeezed his shoulder, just a little bit, "I won't leave Grogu. I could never."

Din lowered his head, took a long, shaked breath that the modulator in his helmet manager to render a metallic sound; for a couple of slow minutes, he did not say anything, focusing only on his still ragged breath.

It was a vision that crushed Luke's heart in his chest: that man that loved his son so much to let him _go_. He was willing to endure loneliness, thought that he would had never seen his son again - and Leia was right and Luke felt a surge of guilt up in his throat - and he was at ease with that because so Grogu would have been safe.

When Din spoke there was relief in his voice, confusion and rage that swirled in the Force like a mulinel, "Then _why_ are you here?"

Luke scratched the back of his neck, with a low, embarassed chuckle, "Well, this'll seem clumsy of me --," he trailed off, unsure.

How do you tell a man that just get out of a panic attack that you _forgot_ to ask his comm frequency because distracted by his eyes -- ah-ehm, by the gravity of the situation?

"All right, that's enough," said Karga, he walked up to Din and extended his arms, "You go to sit. Give me my grandson."

Din did not move, for a second, then he let Karga hug Grogu to his chest, "Your _grandson_?"

Fett scoffed, filling a second glass of liquor, "It's a recent development," he slided the glass up to Din, with a smile that was not friendly, but somehow less predatory - and really, Luke could not wrap his head around _Boba_ _kriffing_ _Fett_ being civil and almost sympathetic.

Din sat down on the vacant chair near Cara, the woman reached with a hand and squeezed the one wrist covered by the armor, "You all right?"

Din nodded, closed his hand around the glass; and no, he was not fine, Luke could tell that even without reaching for him through the Force, but the woman did not press further the subject, accepting Din's slightly shaked nod.

The man tilted his visor, instead, and took in Han and Leia, "And Han Solo is here because --?"

Han smiled, a smug grins that curled up his lips, incredibly pleased by himself, "See, my name preceed me, unlike _someone_ else."

Luke sighed, he _knew_ he should have not told Han his encounter with Din.

"Apart being annoying?" Fett deadpanned, and Luke stifled a laugh into a cough.

Din _actually_ answered, "Yeah."

Leia covered a laugh under her hand at Han's spluttering, then she offered Din a cordial smile, "We are with Luke. I'm Leia, his sister."

Din gave her a little nod, a greeting, and Han leaned a little on the table, palm flat against its polished surface, "Really? Nothing? The name Leia kriffing Organa doesn't ring any bell?"

Din tilted his head, for a couple of seconds, turned his visor towards Cara, then back to Leia, "Alderaan," he said, at the end, in a half-whisper, recognition gripping through his voice.

Leia lips curled into a sad smile, she nodded and for a moment Luke tought Din would have reached towards the tablet and squeezed her wrist, but he just exlaimed, instead, "I'm sorry, for your lost."

Leia's eyes wandered on his half-harmored figures, her gaze surprise, still a little sad, "Thank you."

Din nodded, lightly, into a gesture that bended his helmet and showed his forehead for a couple of seconds.

Then he looked over at Luke, and the Jedi silenced the disappointment when instead of Din's dark eyes he found himself observing his visor, "Just tell me why you're here."

"I --," Luke choughed, his cheeks warm, "I forgot to take your comm frequency."

Fennec, that had been sit in silence up until that _very_ moment, threw her head back and laugh, loud and full, and even if Karga were trying to stop her, his lips were dangerously quivering.

Cara was the only one that were actually trying not to laugh at Luke's face.

Well, her and Din: the man had not moved a muscle after his declaration, and Luke could feel Din's eyes sinked in Luke's, " _What_?" Din asked, in disbelief.

Grogu cooed with glee from Karga's arms, and then he laughed too, full of mirth.

Han gave Luke a mischief smile, arching an eyebrow, "Oh, you should tell him _why_ you forgot."

One of the glasses on the table flew towards Han.

Luke had still his finghers raised when Han cried an outraged, "Hey."

Luke trew him another glass, "What?" he asked, innocently.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Han half-shouted, ducking and barely dodging a third glass, "I'll stop."

"So," he turn back to Din, satisfied, and tried his best to ignore the room full of people terribly amused by his behaviour, "I did not mean to leave without giving you the chance to find your son again. I'm sorry that happend."

Din was silent for so long that the mood of the room had the time to sober: it was not as tense as before, when Din had cracked like a glass in front of them, but the mirth of minutes prior had waned.

Din reached with a hand and traced Grogu's little head with his fingers, the child clinged on them and Karga let Din took his son back in his arms, "You'll let me see him?" he asked, in a whisper so soft that Luke almost missed it.

And Luke spoke without thinking, "Come with us."

Impulsiveness, the bane of his existence.

Din did not answer, not immediately, he just stared at the child down in his arms, his visor tilted a bit to the side, "Are you sure?" he asked, and again it was so soft Luke almost did not hear it. Then Din looked up and his visor turned towards Luke, "I won't jeopardize his training. _Are_ _you_ _sure_?"

"I am," he answered, tried to communicate with just that two words that yes, he was sure, it was the right choice, "You are not a liability for him."

"But his attachment may be," Din exclaimed, low, tired - and it should had not come as a surprise, Luke had felt Din's terror on his very skin, but somehow, the thought that Din could have _actually_ knew about the Old Ways had not even crossed his mind.

"I don't want to commit the same mistakes of the past," he explained, with a smile that he hoped was warm and reassuringly, "The Old Order falls because of fear, they believed firmly that attachment, love, our own emotions would have brought us to the Dark Side," he lowered his gaze, to the child in Din's arms, "I don't want to fall for the same convinction. Love is just... that: love. It's how we decide to act in its name that matter."

There was silence after his words, a long, slow moment of stillness until Fett scoffed, "Must you _Jetiise_ always be so kriffing philosophical?" the man swallowed the dark liquor in his glass and lifted a wry smile to Luke, "Just say that you can have sex now."

Luke immediately blushed, "That - that's not what - _why_ are you still here?"

Fett only grinned and Luke felt the urge to cover his face in his hands, he didn't only because he was still trying to convince Din to join them.

"Then I'd like to come," Din, Force bless his soul, said, ignoring Fett's comment even if Luke could hear a note of amusement through his modulator, at least he was not laughing like Han, "Thank you."

Luke shaked his head, a small smile tugged the corners of his lips.

Din let Grogu back on the floor and the child immediately stalked towards Boba Fett, "I'll be back shortly," he said, mostly to his child, Grogu tilted his head and looked up at his father with big, dark eyes, "Behave. I'll go take the rest of my armor," he then informed Luke, with a hand gestured over his unprotected shoulder, he sounded a little bit embarassed, and Luke silenced that part of his brain that screamed: _cute_.

*

Din just had the time to fastened his shoulder strap, before a knock interupped him.

"Come in," he exlaimed, and the Jedi - _Luke_ , his mind finally supplied - entered the room. He was carring Grogu in his arms, a small, apologetic smile on his lips.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he said, voice still so incredibly soft, "Grogu wasn't at ease not having you in his watch," Din raised an eyebrow at the explanation, lips already parted to protest, but he did not have much ground to fight back his son's concerns, not after what he put him through just a couple of minutes before.

So he just sighed, nodding to Luke and nudging him to enter.

Either the Jedi did not get the message or had more to say, "He had actually begun climbing the stairs, I thought it'd be better to bring him here before he hurt himself."

The Jedi chuckled and to Din, he appeared almost _embarassed_ : he was standing at the door, weigh shifting from leg to leg, a stance that was not rigid, per se, but that neither was calm, at ease.

"I told you to behave," he sighed, looking straight at Grogu from under his helmet.

His son cooed happily and strirred in Luke's arms, wrestling to be set back on the floor. Luke obliged, with a soft smile that was - beautiful.

Din looked at the Jedi - _really_ looked - for the first time.

Back on Gideon's ship, he was too focused on Grogu, the thought that he was going to loose him, again, that prevent him from noticing everything else goin on around him.

That's why he had not noticed the Jedi warm smile, his big eyes that were so blue and that shined more than the actual kriffing sky, his slender figures covered from head to toe in black robes that accentuated his blond, curled hair.

By Gods, the Jedi was beautiful and Din had been so out of his mind he had not even noticed.

He sighed, again, pushing that new revelation in a dark corner of his mind: he still felt too tired to deal with Luke's objective beauty right now. _Right_ _now_ , he needed to remember where he had put the Darksaber; maybe under the bed?

"Uhm, what --?" he heard the Jedi asks.

Din tucked his head up from under the bed, where the Darksaber effectively was, and gestured with the hand that wielded its hilt, "Damn thing rolls everywhere."

Grogu crossed the room, he walked up to Din and lighly touched his bended knees; Din sat back on his heels just so his kid could climb up his legs and sat in his lap.

Grogu was a little bit clingier that usual, and Din found out that he did not care a bit: his son presence was comforting, his nerve finally at ease, his breath regular again - he did not mind the Jedi presence either. He was... _different_ from what Din had immagine. From Ahsoka Tano. From that deadly force that had stroll through two dozens of lethal droids on Gideon's ship.

Now that Din was not on the verge of a full blown panic attack, the man actually looked nice, kinder from what he was used to, and, as a matter of fact, he seemed more like a kid with big eyes full of curiosity than a wise wizard with magical powers.

"You had a lightsaber," Luke exlaimed, and his eyes sparkles and Din was too tired to try and nominate that sting of emotion that pinched the pit of his stomach.

"Just holding into it," he answered, letting Grogu trace the hilt with clawed fingers, "Hopefully not for too long."

"Oh, uhm," the Jedi chewed at his lower lip, and Din wondered why he seemed so on edge with him, "Why? If I can ask."

Din considered what to answer; he was not in the right state of mind to go down the maze that were Mandalorian's traditions, considering also his own few knowledge on _that_ particular tradition.

He was silent for too long, probably, because the Jedi blushed heavily and spluttered a shaked apology that Din almost did not comprehend.

"I just don't want what comes with it," he exclaimed, interrupting that flow of fast words, the Jedi nodded and Din wondered why he had proposed him to come along with his son if his mere presence made Luke so uncomfortable.

The thought of loosing Grogu again was enough to almost had him hyperventilate a second time, but for his son, he would have not hesitated. Not even for a second.

"Are you _sure_ you want me to come?" he asked, the Jedi immediately nodded and Din asked himself _why_ , Luke looked on edge with him, about to jump out of his own skin.

But, if Din had to be sincere with himself, he too would had been wary of the man whose nerves broken like glass.

"I'm sorry," he said, tilting his head into a small nod, "For... early, I didn't - I wasn't thinking. My son, he is everything to me," he traced Grogu's cheek with one of his still bare hands, "After what he went through, he deserve to be with his own kind. With you."

"I agree," Luke answered, immediately, and again his lips curled into a soft, beautiful smile, "That's why I want you to come with us, you are his kind too," he looked like he was about to add more, but then he shaked his head and just smiled, instead.

Din felt something deep and warm heating up inside him, the possibility of being with his son which took shape before his eyes, "Thank you," he said, again, he never meant anything more in his life.

Luke smile widened, in a way that lit up his eyes and made the room a little bit warmer, then, suddenly, the Jedi's cheeks turned pink and he coughed, as if uncomfortable again, "Good, uhm, you're welcome, I -," he took a soothing breath and gestured at the door, "I'll wait for you downsairs."

He did not even wait for Din to answer, he just turn on his heels and strolled out of the room.

Din raised an eyebrow under his helmet and turned it down to his lap, "Well he seems, uh, nice?"

He was fairly sure Grogu was judging them both, if the note of amusement in his eyes was of any indication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, here is the thing.  
> I get that someone may have preferred an angry, screaming Mandalorian, but I don't think that was the right course of action.  
> After what Din went through, no one would be fine enough to look at the man you think is abandoning your child and just scream.  
> Your mind wandered, you are tired, even furious, yes, but most of all you are terrified and you blame yourself for basically everything.  
> You may just want to stood there and lay all your rage on the space wizard but it's not that easy, especially if at the same time you are reviving all the things that went wrong in the last two days or so and that almost had ended with your son spending the rest of his life as a scientific experiment.  
> Then, lets not forget that I didn't really give Din any time to actually rationalize what happened. Up until now, all I have him do was sleep and be an emotional wreckage.  
> So yeah, panic attack that's it.  
> And after all of that I lost control over the characters and next thing I know Din was connecting the dots with Leia being Alderaan's princess and Luke was trewing glasses at Han. I am so sorry, this chapter is a mess and full of attempt at humor that I actually liked and didn't want to cut off.  
> Thanks to whoever arrive so far, I love you all.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we go down this new episode of The Not-So-Ruthless Found Family of Din and Grogu Djarin, I have to make an announcement: we have beta readers. Which, I have to say, are damn SAVIORS.  
> If THAT is the ammount of errors you guys had to endure during the last three caphers, I have no idea how this fanfiction is so well accepted.  
> So really, a huge thank you to idek_el and Jemisard, that had found the time to go through this and correct all the typos and inccorect grammatical forms. I love you both dearly. As I love all of you that read and let comments/kudos.  
> Hopefully, you will find this chapter as funny as it was for me writing it.

Seen from the outside, Din supposed they looked like a strange group on disjointed individuals - and, realistically, they were: a bunch of bounty hunters, a child, and the heroes of the Republic.

But at a certain cross road, without Din even realising, he had taken a turn in his life that had lead to him strolling in the streets with his _son_ in his arms and _companions_ by his side.

It was a nice feeling, their presence at his back: they were solid, alive, Din felt... safe. And Gods, if he knew it was a terrible idea, getting comfortable, lovering his guard; nothing good would have ever come from these feelings, but maybe - _just_ maybe -, just this once, he could let himself go and enjoy that unexpected light that was so warm and so foreign.

Grogu cooed happily, and a small bubble of lightness grew in Din's stomach. He smiled, under the helmet, and let the child trap his now gloved fingers in both his little hands.

Cara fell into step with him, arms raised and hands tucked behind her head, she was not as relaxed as she was trying to appear. "So. You'll be fine, right?" she asked, and her tone wandered a little, uncertain.

Din felt warm settle again in his bones, a dangerous feeling, but Cara was - damn - a friend and for whatever reason he felt safe with her. "Why?" he retorted, and shoved her a little with his shoulder, "You worried?"

Cara laughed, breathy and soft, and her eyes lit up in amusement. "Me? Not really. I'm asking on Boba's behalf."

Fennec snorted, behind them, then she curled her lips into an amused smile and turned to Boba. "You're getting soft in your old age."

Din felt a laugh surged up in his throat, and even Grogu looked amused: safely tucked in his arms, the child was looking at that semicircle of people walking around them, smiling, laughing, as a child should; not running from a fallen Empire, always afraid for his own life.

Han Solo lifted an eyebrow, wary, "Not to be that mood breaker," he started - Luke trew Din a small, apologetic smile -, "But why are you still following us? And with _you,_ I mean," he twisted on his toes and faced Boba, " _You."_

"He has the right to be here," Din answered. He vaguely remembered the story of Boba and Solo and in any other circumstances he would have not interfered, but he owned Boba at least that, "He didn't have to help me, but did it anyway."

Boba raised an eyebrow, into a skeptical expression. "We had a deal."

Din tilted his visor towards him, a little dramatically, with what he knew was a pointed attitude, "Sure," he commented, not stressing the matter but with a totally not-believing tone.

Karga grinned from behind Boba's shoulder, incredibly amused. "Thanks the stars for that deal, then."

It was... good. Smiling and joking. But it was especially funny teasing Boba; not for the man himself - he clearly knew how to take a joke - but for the tense reactions of Luke and his companions, they seemed ready for a battle, as if a fight would have erupted from Greef's comment.

But then Grogu giggled, a childish, gleeful sound that contrasted with the Republic's heroes tense postures, and his son raised both arms, as if to ask Boba, of all of them, to pick him up and carry him.

Boba raised both his eyebrows, expression neutral, just a gleam of interest that sparked at the pit of his dark gaze, and commented. "You've spoiled him."

Din almost choked on his own saliva, " _Excuse you_?"

At that point, Solo's eyes were impossibly wide, and Luke and his sister seemed torn between bursting out laughing at the ridiculousness of them all, or drawing their weapons.

Boba tucked his helmet in the crook of his elbow, and gestured with the other hand, in Din's general direction. "Look at him, being carried like a little noble," he stopped, considered his own words, and then a humorous smile formed on his face. "But I guess he _is_ , now."

It was not even a mocking comment, just some friendly, good-natured teasing.

What had become of his life?

Din sighed and pondered for a moment to ignore Boba until they reached Luke's ship, but his best self preservation instincts were too tired and amused, so instead he turned to look at Grogu. "Sorry, kid, uncle Boba's being an ass."

Greef mock-winced in disbelief. "Don't curse in front of the kid!" Cara and Fennec laughed, full and high.

That was the moment Solo threw both his hands in the air, an almost hysteric look in his narrowed eyes. "What the fu --"

"Don't swear in front of the kid," Greef interjected.

Solo ran his hands through his hair out of frustration. Truth be told, Boba seemed to be enjoying himself. Incredibly so.

Leia - was she still a princess? How was Din supposed to address her? - closed the distance that separated her from her husband, and actually _patted_ a hand on his shoulder, as if to comfort him.

She turned back to Din with a small smile on her lips; she seemed amused to some extent, but there was still a note of wariness in her features, something that held her back and instead convinced her to slide in what seemed her best polite persona.

"My apologies," she said, the wariness and amusement slipping off of her face. Her voice was cordial, her smile closed off but polite in a way that screamed _politician_ in Din's ears, "But we and... Mr. Fett, didn't take leave on friendly terms."

Din's visor tilted towards Boba; the man scoffed mirthlessly, and upon he noticed Solo's lips parting to speak, Din decided to play a part he had never, ever in his life expected to play. The kriffing peace keeper.

"I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you, uhm," he hesitated for a moment, then added, "Princess?"

A note of surprise crossed Leia's features, only for a second. "Senator, actually."

"Senator Organa," Din corrected. There was something in Leia's petite size that demanded his best formal behaviour. "But I won't disrespect someone who helped save my _ad'ika._ "

Din was not a politician. He was not skillful with words, nor could he bring people to his feet with just a couple of well placed statements, but he still hoped his words would be able to make his point. "If he wants to stay, he stays. If he wants to go, he goes. I'll respect whatever he chooses."

Luke squeezed his sister's elbow, his long, black cape swayed with his every movement. "I think we're safe, Leia," he assured, talking for the first time since they left Greef's place. "The Force is calm, I don't sense danger, from anyone."

Cara chimed in the conversation, with a sober expression. "That's 'cause we aren't dangerous."

"Well, not to the kid, anyway," Fennec interjected, and both Greef and Cara threw her a look.

Solo threw his hands in the air for the second time, "All right, _fine._ I guess we are all friends, then."

"You are not the only one displeased," Boba deadpanned.

Fennec curled her lips into a mocking - yet somehow almost _fond_ \- smile. "Well, at least you agree on something."

Boba threw her a look. "Sometimes, I regret saving you."

"Nah," Fennec shrugged and, beside her, Cara stifled a smile. "You don't."

Din was not the only one who was letting himself relax, bathing in this unexpected, blinding light of companionship: all of them knew the danger of letting others inside their own armors, but somehow, Grogu had cracked every single ones and crafted a spot for himself without even the need to _speak._

And this was the aftermath: all of them, joking and mocking each other.

The Jedi fell into step with Din and Grogu cooed with delight, lifting an arm just to wave contently. "Is he always like that?" he asked, looking over at Boba, "When he's not pointing a blaster at your head."

Din shrugged a shoulder, letting Grogu curl his hands around one of his fingers. "Don't know, I don't know Boba so well."

Luke lifted his eyebrows, a little surprised, "Oh, it's just that you seem... close."

"Well, he also saved me from Bo-Katan, so," Din did not know why he answered like that, but it was worth it for the look of utter confusion in Luke's eyes.

"Uhm, who --?"

"Red hair," answered Boba; Din noticed that he and Solo had resumed their Intense Stare Contest. "Spoiled brat, couldn't have missed her in the Moff's ship."

Luke's eyes sparkled in recognition - and they were really, really blue. "Yes, I remember her," he said, quietly, and lowered his head a little, as if mortified by his lack of knowledge of Din's acquaintances.

Cara hissed an irritated sigh. "She'll come back, eventually."

"When she calls, I'll answer," Din stated, because it was the only thing he could actually do to maintain his end of the deal with Bo-Katan. For how much unpleasant that would have been.

Cara lifted her hands in the air, in an exasperated gesture. " _Mandos_ ," she almost hissed, and Luke tilted his head, looking between the both of them.

"I think I'm missing something," the Jedi said, and with his eyes huge with confusion, a voice screamed _adorabile_ in Din's mind. He pushed the thought back and ignored the wave of heat on his neck, because he did not need to develop attraction on his _ad'ika_ teacher.

Solo grimaced behind them, still caught up in his Intense Stare Contest with Boba. " _Now_ you're missing something?"

Luke huffed, rolling his eyes to the sky for a couple of seconds. "Yes, Han, _now_. I told you already we're safe, how 'bout we trust the Force-sensitive Master for once?"

Solo's eyes snapped on Luke, almost outraged, as if he could not believe Luke's words. "Of course I trust you, it's _him_ I don't trust."

"We're here," Leia exclaimed, with relief, her political mask lost to a look of utter exasperation and worry. Somehow, without Din even noticing, they had reached the landing bay and the - _well_ , piece of old junk that apparently was Luke's ship.

It was so old Din wondered how was it still able to fly; then again, the Crest was old too and he had found himself unwilling to let her go till the very end. He remembered the explosion, a shiver running down his spine and for a moment, he felt the heat of the fire on his skin, hot and suffocating even though he had been covered by his armor. It was a miracle Grogu's favourite toy had survived the explosion.

"Well, aren't you lot predictable?" Boba half-grinned, eyes wandering over the circular section of the ship. "This old piece of junk still flies?"

Solo narrowed his eyes, throwing Boba a dirty look. "She's the fastest ship in the outer rim," he answered, lifting his chin with pride. "Don't you dare insult her."

Boba's eyes gleamed with something similar to a morbid amusement. "It's too easy with you."

The man opened his mouth, then closed it, outraged. Leia squeezed his wrist, a mute encouragement, though Solo's lips still twisted into a wary grimace.

Grogu quivered an ear, questioningly, dark eyes lifted to the two men in front of him.

"You know what, I don't have to suffer this," Solo half-growled, eyes narrowed, "I don't even know why I'm letting you come." He then turned on his heels, facing Din with a hostile grimaces. "If you try something --"

"My _ad'ika_ 's life is the only thing that matters to me," Din stated, effectively interrupting the other man's ranting, he did not need for his son to hear Solo's threats, or for Boba to be insulted anew. "Should _he_ ," he tilted his chin and indicated Luke, "Decide that my presence is more of a danger than anything, then and _only_ then, I'll leave."

Solo sighed - or emitted a _sound_ that Din supposed was a sigh. It seemed more like a heavy growl, low in his throat. "Just be quick, the sooner I get far away from him, the better."

Solo disappeared on the deck of the old ship; his wife followed him soon enough, after exchanging a pleasant farewell with Cara and Greef, she also went as far as nodding in Boba and Fennec's general direction, still tense and wary, but much more sympathetic than Solo. She, at least, seemed to understand why Din had let them follow him.

Luke smiled at him, warm and encouraging, as if he was silently giving Din all of his support. A ridiculous thought, really, one that Din did not know why he even had in the first place. He had always know that the outcome would be a separation, had expected it sooner, actually. And _yet_.

Yet there was this bubble of sadness at the pit of his stomach, and Din could not recall when or how he had become this emotional.

"I'll wait for you inside," Luke told him, so very soft, gentle in a way that Din was not used to, before excusing himself and disappearing into the ship, Din watching his back, unsure of what to do with that warm, unexpected kindness.

He hugged Grogu to his chest, glad to have his son in his arms to prevent him from fidgeting uncomfortably. He was still so tired, still felt like an exhausted mess that could barely stand up straight, had no idea what to say.

"So, this is a goodbye."

And it was the wrong thing: he did not want it to be a goodbye - whatever he had found with these people, Din did not want it to end there.

"Yeah, don't you even dare," Greef marched up to him, and Din had to lift up his chin a little to look at him in the eyes. "You _will_ keep me update on the little one."

Cara shot him a fond look, if a little amused, and Din found himself bracing for the tease he was sure was coming. "And let Skywalker take care of you."

Din narrowed his eyes, under his helmet. "I can take care of myself just fine."

Fennec grinned side by side with Boba. "We almost had to drag you to sleep," and Boba scoffed, nodding at the same time with absolute conviction.

Why was he sad to leave, again?

Cara smiled up at him, eyes still so, so soft. "But you know where to find us, should you need help."

And _that_ was a thought that warmed Din up from the inside: that they were all willing to remain in each others lives.

"Thank you," he whispered, low, barely audible; Grogu cooed from his chest, little arms raised, hands waving. "Thank you all, _truly_."

Boba bowed his head, just for a second, the slightest gesture of departure. "May you and your _ad'ika_ find peace. _Ret'urcye mhi, vod_."

Din repetaed the jesture, except he let his head bow for a couple of seconds longer. " _Ret'urcye mhi, vod,_ " and, Din realised, he really hoped to see Boba again. And Cara. And Greef. And even Fennec and her perpetually amused grin.

Greef traced a finger along Grogu's long ear. "Don't become strangers, you two."

Din only bowed his head again. "We won't."

*

There was a Wookiee in the ship.

Grogu cooed in delight, amazed by the imposing figure seated in the pilot chair. The Wookiee growled a greeting, by how deep the voice sounded, Din was fairly sure was a male.

He did not have time to answer the incredibly polite salute that the Wookiee addressed to him though, the second Din and Grogu entered the cockpit, Solo barked a frustrated order and the ship lifted in the sky.

It was a far smoother take off than what Din had expected: he had almost feared the ship would hover for a couple of meters, and then crash ruinously back to the soil. Instead, it rose up in the air without even having to settle.

The Wookiee growled a frustrated remark, to which Solo rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, it took longer then what we told you, it's not like we did it on purpose."

The Wookiee threw both his long and heavy arms in the air, in a gesture of used capitulation, but the next, powerful roar was an introduction aimed at Din, one he would've answered if given the chance, but Solo seemed incredibly eager to translate on the Wookie's behalf. (He was probably also used to needing to do so.)

"His name is Chewbacca," Solo told him, with a grin that was mostly teeth. "He said he doesn't like you."

Din lifted an eyebrow; Chewbacca roared exasperated. "It should be difficult having him as a translator," he stated, visor tilted towards the Wookiee. Chewbacca growled a low agreement and Din was not able to prevent the laugh that escaped his lips.

"Just whose side are you on?" Solo mumbled, a sharp look in his eyes, lips twisted into a grimace. The Wookiee shrugged. 

The siblings turned their attention to Din; they seemed to be around the same age, but there was something in Leia's eyes, that made her look older, more tired. "You talk Shyriiwook?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Din shook his head, as the ship hit hyperspace. "Can make some sentences, but I'm far better at understanding it than talking it."

"How many languages do you know?" For some reason, the Senator seemed incredibly interested in the conversation.

"Some," Din replied, and Luke tilted his head a little to the side, a curious expression on his face.

"You used a word before... 'adika'?"

He had managed both the wrong pronunciation and intonation, but Din understood nonentless. He crooked his head down at Grogu. " _Ad'ika_ ," he corrected, and his son looked up at him making Din smile under his helmet. "That, is Mando'a."

Leia smiled, leaned on the armrest of her seat and trapped Din in her interested gaze. "I never had the chance to learn Mando'a."

"It's a language just like any other," he replied, while Grogu and Chewbacca exchanged yet another wave. The Wookiee seemed good with children, or maybe it was just Grogu's innate ability to attract the love of everyone around him.

Leia lifted both her eyebrows, chin rested on one of her hands closed into a fist. "You're not the talkative type, are you?"

Din shrugged a shoulder, leaning with his back on the hard wall of the cockpit. "What gave it away?"

The Senator coughed a laugh, now that Boba was nowhere near her, she seemed more relaxed, more at ease, as if Din was not a threat. He did not dislike that: the Senator seemed to be a person worth knowing, like her brother, "Just pure observational skills," she grinned, with a friendly aura that had never shown back on Nevarro.

She seemed younger now, a heavy burden that still burned in her eyes, but she was... mischievous, almost; while she was so openly making fun of Din.

Luke was smiling from ear to ear, the picture of happiness on a young, beautiful, visage - and Din realised it would have been hard not to like the man, especially if he kept smiling at him with so much warmth.

Leia rose from her seat, light on hee feet as a trained soldier would have been. "Come, I'll show you the ship."

Solo tilted his head, looking up from the co-pilot seat. "She's not that big, he can go alone."

The Senator cut him a dry look, before turning back to Din and all but _dragging_ him out of the cockpit. A droid rolled inside the cabin at the same moment, chirping a high sequences of trills: it was an old piece of technology, its short, round body rocked from side to side, then it lightly bumped on Luke's leg, as if in a greeting or an attempt at attract attention.

Din held Grogu tightly to his chest, images of deadly droids flashed behind his eyes, but Leia did not give him time to relive the scene again; she let the doors of the cockpit slide gently shut behind their back, and escorted Din down the short corridor.

They both knew she only wanted an excuse to talk with Din alone, so he simply waited, walking alongside the Senator in a silence that was not comfortable, but neither was uncomfortably tense.

"So," the woman said, at the end of the corridor, stopping in her tracks. "What do you think of my brother?"

Of all the things she could have asked, Din had not expected _that_.

He lifted an eyebrow, a curious expression effectively obscured by his helmet. "He seems, uhm, nice?"

Grogu quivered an ear, Leia tilted her head on the side; they both cut him a long-suffering glance, the Senator even smiled in encouragement, "And?"

Din sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Senator," he said, shrugging a shoulder, "He was, _is_ , my best shot," he trailed off, the memory of Luke's smile burning in his memory, shining like a sun. "But I guess he is rather bright."

Leia's smile widened a little, she nodded, with something that almost seemed like satisfaction. "I admit that when I found out your... acquaintance, with Fett, I was rather wary of you." She smiled down on Grogu, the child's eyes big of delight, "But there's something in you... It's how you act around your son, I think, you seem to try to put yourself between him and the galaxy. You just don't strike me as a bad man."

Din was not a good man either - he just happened to make some good choices along the way.

"There's a Mandalorian saying," he stated, observing Leia as she frowned. " _Gar taldin ni jaonyc, gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la._ It means 'nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be', a child..." he faltered, unsure of what to say, of what the woman was expecting from him. He sighed, again, low and quiet, " _Your_ child changes you, Senator. It is not a matter of being a good or a bad person anymore, it's about being the best parent you could be."

Leia nodded, slowly. "I think I understand," she said, softly, and Din shook his head.

"You don't," he smiled, under his helmet, at Leia's puzzled expression. "But you will, when you'll have a child."

The Senator was silent for a couple of second, deep in her own thoughts, but when she looked back at Din, her features were relaxed, her lips stretched into a soft, incredibly gentle smile. "As I was saying, you're not a bad man," she said, as if she just decided, there and at that very moment, that Din was, indeed, a good person. Then her smile turned mischievous, in an instant. "You know, my brother likes you."

_Uhm?_

She turned her back at him, and strode back to the cockpit, stopping only to throw a look at Din over her shoulder. "You two would make quite the couple, I think."

Grogu cooed, nodding, Leia smiled down at him.

And what was _that_ supposed to mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ret'urcye mhi', 'goodbye' in Mando'a, lit. 'maybe we'll meet again'
> 
> Watch me have Leia organize her baby shower with Din.  
> Watch me.

**Author's Note:**

> 'vod', it's Mando'a for 'brother/sister', or even 'comrade', 'mate'.  
> 'Gar shuk meh kyrayc', it literaly means 'You are no use dead' but it's usually said to encourage someone to take a rest, and it's rarely used literaly.  
> 'Ni vaabir nayc linibar nuhoy', 'I don't need sleep'.  
> 'Gar vaabir', 'you do'
> 
> Again, I am not fluent in Mando'a, so I used the help of the internet, hopefully I have not write something terribly incorret.


End file.
